Normally I'd put this stuff in arts and crafts, but I'm just not feeling the whimsy. Is it really true, like the song says, that some days never come? Never ever? Never, ever, ever? I put the background in the can men and women be friends thread. I had solid reasons. I had more deficits than credits...I really couldn't have kept him back then. Two kids, shit job, a car one banana peel away from the junk heap. The worst part was a psycho ex husband, he would have harassed the guy's job until I truly was more trouble than I was worth. He'd done it before, it was textbook. Just didn't want him looking at me like he wished he hadn't, so I wouldn't. He would have. He did anyway. Kids grown, psycho ex dead, shit...a degree and a half assed bright future. So here I come home, and I find out him and the heifer ("you can't be hanging on me, I've got a GIRLfriend") split. So I'm hunting. Doesn't he find out I'm looking for him and confront me like I killed someone? "You looking for me?" "Yes" "DON'T" "oKAY" "are we CLEAR?!" "Chrystal." Cutest fucking stiletto shoe boots, skinny black jeans, and didn't I fall (in a graceful building demolition kind of way, straight down, no face plant thank you baby Jesus) in a heap off the stoop catching my cab? The cab driver handed me over to my kids (another story for another day, their reaction) and stopped by (very briefly on the back landing) a week later to check on me (and the reaction from the kids was even worse, the WTF?! goes on and on...) Meanwhile, back to the some days never come... WHERE the fuck does that kind of fury come from? We didn't have a bad break up. So to speak. We never dated. He wasn't wrong, I wanted to, too, but I never strung him up, or along. So it was gonna happen: He had a GIRLfriend. My bad. My fault. Sucked that shit up, tucked my tail between my legs and stayed in the woods for another twelve years. And I'm home, but it isn't home anymore, not even a little bit. Damn. Some days really never ever come. Ain't that the shit? Thanks too Frogen for the song. Didn't I miss the good part, but the rest is dead on. Had a bottle of Bacardi in the freezer for a special occasion and worked on a coma last week listening to that shit. Damned if I didn't wake up. I'm alright. Another day, just no someday.